Chapter 6:

The voice laughed and someone stepped out of the shadows. Jazz gasped, and then laughed when she saw who it was. Duke, the guy who had given her a lift that one night, the first day she had met Yugi and all of friends, Duke was the guy who had helped her when she was lost. It seemed like centuries ago when he had given her his number and kissed her on the cheek good bye. Jazz had a feeling she would have a lot of explaining to do, she had never called him back.

"So, do you want my help? I figure you look a little lost again," Duke smiled at her good naturedly, his dice earring swinging.

"Oh, thank you so much, I don't have a clue where I am or where I'm meant to be for that matter," replied Jazz, almost fainting with relief. She had thought she was in so much trouble, that she was about to be raped and murdered, that she was about to be kidnapped, that she was about to be tortured by some sick minded bastard. All of these horrible images had gone through her mind, but now she knew she was safe.

"Listen, I'll take you out for a drink, and then find you somewhere to crash for the night, would that help?"

"Oh, thank you so much. I need help right now, something bad happened at the club I was at with friends, and we all ran. We were separated, and I can't remember my friends address. This will help so much. Thank you."

Duke placed a hand on her elbow, and steered her towards his car. It was just as rusty as last time, but if possible, was even dirtier. As Duke turned the key in the ignition heavy rock music was pouring out of the speakers. Jazz closed her eyes and began to loose herself in the music, when suddenly it was turned off.

"You know Jazz," said Duke, a playful smile tugging at his lips, "I think you're using me."

Jazz turned to him quickly, a frown marring her smooth forehead.

"What I mean is, you only ever seem to see me when you need me, and you never called me back that time."

Jazz felt kind of bad. Sure she had kind of forgotten about Duke the next day, he was just the nice guy who had helped her home, but maybe he had wanted to stay in touch, and then the whole hospital thing happened and Jazz just hadn't thought about him.

Jazz explained all of this to him, and when she told him about the cutting his face had an unreadable expression on it.

Jazz asked him what as wrong and he turned to her, tears gathering on his bottom lashes. "I knew someone who that happened to, she wasn't found in time."

Then he turned away, and angrily swept an arm across his face. Jazz pretended not to notice his tears. He wouldn't want a fuss.

The rest of the ride passed in silence.

SsssSsssSsssSsssSsssSsssSsssSsssS

Duke led Jazz to a small smoky bar, in a quiet out of the way corner. Jazz liked it immediately. There was no risk, no chance of fights, and the bartender was friendly. It seemed perfect.

Duke ordered two drinks and they sat down in a quite booth. Soon they were talking and laughing as if they had been friends for years, and Jazz was having a fantastic time. The terror she had felt in the club was soon forgotten. Instead she kept drinking.

Grabbing a bottle of whisky, his deck of Duel Monster cards, and a set of dice, Duke straddled the chair facing Jazz and gave her a wicked grin. He was getting drunk just as fast as her, and felt like some fun.

"What say you I teach you a little drinking game I created."

As he taught her the rules and made Jazz try a few examples Jazz had consumed most of the whisky. In the came that followed she lost just as many times as she won, and succeeded in getting thoroughly pissed. She was laughing hysterically, as was Duke, and he was getting a few enviously looks from the lonely guys nursing their beers.

SsssSsssSsssSsssSsssSsssS

Soon it was time for the bar to close, so Jazz and Duke staggered outside, still laughing, clinging on to each other for support. They were smashed out of their skulls.

"Oh, shit," slurred Duke. He was frantically searching is pockets, looking for his car keys, but he couldn't find them anywhere. Unknown to him, the friendly bartender had slipped them out of Duke's pocket as he brought them another bottle of whisky, knowing that he was too pissed to drive, He also knew that Duke would be back for them when he had recovered from his hangover. This had happened before.

"Looks like I'm not driving you anywhere tonight," slurred Duke again, still smiling and laughing with Jazz, "how 'bout you come crash at my place, it's just a few houses away from here."

Jazz was to drunk to say anything, she just laughed, and followed Duke as he walked (more like staggered) down the street, for all of 100 meters. Duke bent down, trying his best not to fall over, and fished a key out from under a flower pot. Suddenly he lost his battle with gravity, and ended up with his arse stuck in the flower pot.

Of course this set him and jazz off laughing again, and it was all she could do to help him up. Of course she nearly over balanced in the process.

After a great deal of fumbling Duke found his front door key and somehow managed to unlock the door. He and Jazz stumbled into the house and crashed onto the couch, still laughing hysterically.

Finally as their laughter subsided and the giggling had stopped and awkward silence fell on the room. Somehow, through his drunken haze, Duke was aware of Jazz, one thigh pressing against his own, her head resting lightly on his shoulder, and his hand resting on her leg. He was aware of how close she was, and how much she awakened his most animalistic savage basic desires.

Suddenly, without even thinking about it, he lent over and kissed her. It wasn't a soft gentle kiss such as what she had with Tristan, but was harder, and Duke basically forced his way in to her mouth. Jazz was too drunk to notice, or to care just how rough he was being, and she wanted this just as much as he wanted her. She rolled over, so that she was straddling Duke, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, hard lips crushing each other.

When Jazz awoke the next morning she was aware of the weight of someone else's arm snaking around her hips. She was also aware of a toned body pressing up against her back and a leg resting on top of hers.

As carefully as she could she rolled over on to her back, trying not to wake the sleeping person up, and turned her head to kiss him.

Where she had been expecting Tristan though she found Duke's sleeping face. Jazz flinched away from him, and sat up with a start. She was lying on the floor of what she assumed must be Duke's house. She looked around and saw a smashed lamp and Duke and her clothes strewn across the floor.

She heard a murmur and looked over at Duke as he began to stir. Looking round frantically, Jazz grabbed whatever clothes she could and a few pillows off the sofa, and did her best to cover her nakedness. This was all wrong, it shouldn't be like this, she was meant to be with Tristan. Jazz felt shit for what she had done, or thought she had done. She couldn't actually remember.

Duke sat up, took one look around the room and at Jazz, before hitting his forehead with his hand. "Fuck." He immediately regretted it, in fact he regretted even getting up this morning, he had the king of all hangovers, and he didn't want to know what had gone on with jazz last night, although, looking round him he could pretty much guess.

"Morning," he mumbled as he stood up, and pulled his black boxers on.

There was that terrible morning after awkwardness in the long silences. Jazz just sat on the floor, doing her best to fight back tears. How could she have done this to Tristan, how could she have betrayed him like this, and with someone she barely knew.

She gathered up her clothes, but borrowed a T-shirt off Duke as at some point last night, one of the straps on her top had ripped, but she really hoped she didn't meet Tristan or any of the gang, because they were sure to notice the rumpled clothing, and the fact that the T–shirt she was wearing was way to big for her slim frame. They would wonder where she had been. So would her parents for that matter, but Jazz wasn't so bothered about them. They could jump to all the conclusions they wanted, but she would never deny or admit to anything. She had learnt to keep secrets close to your heart a long time ago. But what to do about Tristan?

What had happened last night had been nothing more then drunken stupidity. There had been no love, no connection, and no meaning to what had happened last night. Both of them knew it, both of them knew that it was just lust, that there had been nothing there, a night of drunken passion which would come back to haunt them.

Jazz felt like she could cry, but she also felt like she could stick her head in a bucket and throw her stomach up. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do, or what she wanted to do. If this had happened to her six months ago, she would have gone home, and found the knife, and would have cut herself till it didn't hurt anymore. But she wasn't going to do that, Tristan meant too much for her.